D. Thomas - Backlash

Gonzalez shook her head after following Lewis’s gaze. “That stuff might blow at the slightest touch,” she warned.

“Well then, it’s a good thing we have an explosives expert,” Lewis replied while pointing to Samantha.

Samantha turned her attention from the wall to the wooden crate of dynamite. She instantly fought off the depression that had moments ago nearly overwhelmed her. “That stuff is a little before my time.” She knelt by the box, gingerly touching one of the sticks. “These have been here for a while. They haven’t made dynamite with sawdust like this since before I was born. See the crystals on the edges here? That’s where nitroglycerine has sweated out of the sawdust and then crystallized on the outside of the paper. That’s not good. These sticks are extremely unstable.” She gave the box another look then stood to face the others, saying, “I don’t suppose we have many other options though.”

“Will they still explode?” Gonzalez asked.

Samantha nodded slowly, taking a step back from the crate before saying, “Yes, they are actually more explosive now than when they were made.” Tilting her head to the side, she added, “The trick is to place them without blowing yourself up.”

“I destroyed my grandfather’s rowboat with a similar stick,” Lewis said with a faraway look in his eyes. “It slipped out of my hand by accident while unloading after a fishing trip.”

Gonzalez and Samantha looked at each other and shook their heads, both bewildered by this new information. There wasn’t enough time to go into details now, so Gonzalez simply asked, “You were fishing with dynamite?”

Lewis chuckled. “Grandpa was more into the catching than the releasing.” He then pushed the fond memories aside, the faraway look morphing back into complete concentration. “Here’s my plan,” Lewis began before quickly running through what he had in mind.

Using the word “plan” to describe what Lewis had in mind turned out to be a bit misleading. It was more of a collection of wild thoughts bound together by threads of insanity. Gonzalez and Samantha were becoming ever more convinced that Lewis’s goal was simply to kill all three of them before the gunmen got the chance.

They had to act fast. If Pierre’s men discovered the mine shaft, Lewis and the girls would be sitting ducks. Samantha went to work on the dynamite, gently testing each stick to make sure it could move freely and was intact enough to pick up. Luck was finally on their side; all eight sticks appeared to be usable.

While Samantha was checking the explosives, Gonzalez and Lewis worked together to remove the wooden handles from three of the shovels. They discarded the handles and kept the blades. The insanity was about to begin.

Working as quickly as possible, Samantha slid a single stick of dynamite into the open hole at the end of each shovel blade, gently smashing the nitroglycerine and sawdust into the space that had been formerly occupied by the handle. Lewis carefully took each blade, packing in a handful of small rocks. Gonzalez ripped the sleeves of Lewis’s shirt, making rags to cover the ends of the gravel-filled blades, tying them in place to keep the ammunition inside.

Samantha used another strip of Lewis’s shirt to tie four of the sticks of dynamite together in a single bundle. This bundle, along with the three loaded shovel blades and the final stick of dynamite, was then wrapped in the remainder of the shirt, forming a neat little bag of destruction. They were as ready as they’d ever be.

Lewis grabbed the smallest pickaxe and they all headed back towards the hatch. Samantha carried the explosives, walking as smoothly as possible, keeping her breathing extremely shallow the entire way. The watery section and its slippery floor were especially nerve wracking.

Flames were visible through the burning hatch cover; the fire was within a few minutes of completely destroying it. They had no way of judging the condition of the blaze above, but knew that the time to act was now. Samantha gently handed the four-stick bundle to Gonzalez, and then edged down onto her knees and carefully pushed the rest of the explosives under the water. Lewis gave Gonzalez a quick nod. “Ready?” he asked.

She held the dynamite in her outstretched palms, available for Lewis to grab and throw as soon as the path was clear. “Ready,” she confirmed.

Lewis then hefted the ladder, using it as a battering ram to shove the hatch above to the side. Taking the bundle of dynamite from Gonzalez, he heaved it underhand at the opening, trying to put a little arc on the throw so the explosives wouldn’t end up coming back down through the hatch. The moment Gonzalez’s hands were free, she flattened her body as both she and Samantha pushed the shirt full of dynamite under the water, hoping their bodies and the water would shield the remaining explosives from the approaching blast.

Lewis knew that he too should hit the water but he couldn’t help but watch the bundle as it flew through the opening. He didn’t really know what to expect. The show was nothing short of spectacular; the dynamite, missing the edge of the hatch by less than an inch as it spun out of the hole, detonated almost immediately. Lewis’s eyes widened at the bright explosion. His mind told his body to get in the water but the message arrived too late. The pressure wave from the blast hit Lewis like an all pro linebacker blindsiding a rookie quarterback, thrusting his body downward.

Other than a nose full of water, Lewis and the girls were fine. A few pieces of burning wood now sizzled in the water, but the explosives Samantha still held had been protected enough to remain intact. Everyone’s ears were ringing as they stood back up, looking at each other with dazed expressions.

Knowing there was no time to waste, Lewis took the shirt containing their makeshift weaponry and began climbing the ladder. Luckily, the rung-less section of the ladder was short enough that Lewis was still able to climb to the top, keeping his feet on the outsides of the remaining rungs as he sped upward. He did his best to combine speed and safety, knowing he had to get to the top fast to defend their position against the gunmen above, but he also didn’t want to blow himself up while climbing.

The scene above was close to apocalyptic. When Lewis tossed the dynamite into the inferno, much of the cabin’s shell was actually still standing. The explosion, however, had thrown the burning logs outward, creating a full circle of destruction. Two of Pierre’s men, one of whom was the helicopter pilot, had been directly in the path of one of the largest logs and were now dead. The four remaining gunmen were burned and battered but managed to miss the majority of the destruction because they were lying behind a rock pile when the mayhem started. That didn’t stop them from spotting Lewis’s head when he poked it out of the now-exposed entrance to the mine shaft.

A wave of bullets stormed towards the hatchway as Lewis ducked back inside, nearly falling off the ladder due to his quick movement. Gonzalez, who was working her way up behind Lewis, was stretching to get past the section without rungs when the ladder jolted sideways, sending her back into the water. Samantha grabbed the ladder, steadying it before Lewis and the explosives did a swan dive of their own. “Are you okay?” Lewis called down.

He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he pulled the last unaltered stick of dynamite from the makeshift pack and threw it up through the opening, aiming for the spot he had last seen the gunmen. It turned out to be a fairly decent shot for someone who wasn’t able to see his target; the dynamite directly impacting the front of the largest rock in the enemy hideout. The explosion didn’t take out any of the remaining gunmen but it served Lewis’s purpose, causing enough of a distraction for him to climb out of the shaft and find shelter behind an adjacent mound of dirt and rocks.